


Families new and old

by Helis_von_Askir



Category: Highlander - All Media Types
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-07
Updated: 2019-04-07
Packaged: 2020-01-06 06:38:22
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,521
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18382997
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Helis_von_Askir/pseuds/Helis_von_Askir
Summary: Methos needs a break, but it never works out like planned.





	Families new and old

**Author's Note:**

> Found this while cleaning out my computer. Not the best, but good enough, I hope.  
> Disclaimer: I don't own Highlander, nor am I making money with it. I'm just borrowing it for the time being.

**Families new and old**

The sky above Paris was still dark when Methos packed the last of his bags in his car. He closed the trunk and sat behind the wheel. He knew Mac and Joe would be pissed at him for leaving like that, but he needed a break. He needed to get away from everything for a while. He would be back, eventually, he knew that, he couldn’t leave Joe all alone with that stubborn mule of a Scot, but it needed to be as someone else. Adam Pierson was getting too old and therefore had to die in an accident somewhere in Europe and his son Adam Stone would make an appearance, looking for his father’s legacy, or some other romantic nonsense like that, he was still working on the details. He had left a short message on Joe’s voice-mail, so the old Watcher and MacLeod wouldn’t worry too much, they were worse than a bunch of mother-hens sometimes.

Slipping by his Wathcers was even easier than he had anticipated. They really need to improve the training at the academy, he thought to himself as he made his way out of the city.

Methos was on the road for nearly a day until he reached the Alps. From there he drove into Italy, he wasn’t sure where he would end up exactly, he had a dozen houses all over the country. He’d take the scenic tour and pick one on the way.

 

“Anything new, Joe? MacLeod asked worried when he entered Les Blues Bar. The Scot had been in Japan when Joe had called him with the news that Methos had left Paris and no one knew where he had disappeared to. MacLeod had taken the first flight home after finishing his business and had come straight to the bar, he hadn’t even been to the barge yet. He sat down on a barstool and Joe poured him a scotch.

“You mean aside from Dr. Zoll handing me my ass for allowing the Old Man to give me the slip?” Joe asked sarcastically. “No, nothing new.”

Mac couldn’t suppress a chuckle, despite his worries. “I guess the voice-mail he left you wasn’t very satisfactory for her.”

“No, not really. _Hey Joe, be back in a while, Methos_ , is not really cutting it for Dr. Zoll.” Joe told the Scot.

“I’m sure she’ll calm down again,” Mac assured his Watcher friend. He understood why the Watchers were interested in keeping an eye on Methos. Mac himself hadn’t been happy about his disappearing act either. Not only was he the oldest Immortal still around, he had been a Watcher himself for a decade, with possible prior visits, he knew pretty much everything there was to know about the organization and its people.

The Watchers had put out all the stops to find him, but it’s been a week now and still no trace of him. MacLeod wasn’t surprised, no one could disappear into thin air like the Old Man. He just hoped that he would return soon, for Joe’s sake. The mortal man had only a few decades left. And there was always the chance that Methos would run into a challenge he could not walk away from.

“Yeah, sure,” Joe agreed half-heartedly. “I just hope he doesn’t take too long to find his way back here, Mac.” He said, echoing the Highlander’s own thoughts.

“How did you lose him anyway?” Mac asked. “I thought his place was crawling with Watchers.”

Joe shrugged. “It is, but he still managed to get away with none of us the wiser.”

 

Four months, it had been four months since Methos and disappeared and no trace had been found of him. Dr. Amy Zoll was less than pleased. And now she had received an offer, more like an order, to join an archeological dig near Petra in Jordan. The Tribunal thought she could use a change of scenery, to clear her head, as they had framed it.

 _Clear my head, my ass_ , she fumed silently. They just wanted their peace from her. She had been hounding the Tribuanl for more resources in finding the oldest Immortal, and now they were simply fed up with her and decided to dump her in the middle of the desert. The problem was she couldn’t simply refuse. Her job in the museum depended on it, that had been made clear, not in so many words, but Amy could read between the lines. So now, here she was, packing a suitcase for a dig she would normally die to be a part of, but right now she couldn’t have cared less about it.

 _At least they paid for business class,_ Amy thought when she sat in her seat on the plane. She was still pissed, but after a good night’s sleep she was also looking forward to the dig. Jed Simmons, an old friend from her days as a student was heading the multinational team, and she hadn’t talked to him in years, only the occasional e-mail now and then. It would be good to see him again, especially since he was not part of the Watchers, meaning she could pretend for one to be a normal person, not a member of an international secret organization stalking men and woman who lived forever and carried swords.

“Amy!” she heard her name being called once she made it through customs at the airport in the Jordan capital Amman. Jed was standing near the exit waving excitedly at her. He hadn’t changed all that much, considering that it had been over fifteen years since she had seen him. A big greyer at the temples, a few wrinkles at the eyes, but he still exuded the same energy and joy he had during their time at university.

“It’s so good to see you, Amy,” Jed gave her a bear-hug and then proceeded to take her luggage, leading her  out of the airport to a dust and sand-covered car.

“It’s good to see you too, Jed. It’s been way too long.” Amy sat in the passenger seat while Jed put her suitcases in the trunk and then he took his place behind the wheel.

“I’m so glad you could join us, Amy. You’re gonna love the dig site, and the rest of the team. Most of them are still a bit green behind the ears, but that’s what we old grouches are here for.” Jed told her with a smile.

Amy laughed at that. “I don’t think I ever saw you being grouchy.” She commented.

The rest of the drive to the site was passed in amiable chatter. Jed told her about all the thingy they expected to find and about the others who were working with him. Amy was content to listen and only occasionally put a word in. Jed was like that, talking like a waterfall once he got started.

 

They were in the third week and had made some amazing discoveries, so to celebrate Jed had organized a little party. There was no alcohol, of course, Jordan being a Muslim country, but a lot of cake and that was making up for it, as far as Amy was concerned. It was around midnight when she left the tent to get some fresh air. Lost in thought she wandered around, no goal in her mind, when she saw a light flicker in the near distance. Amy frowned. No one was supposed to be at the site after dark, it was too dangerous.

Carefully Amy made her way over to the light. A part of her mind was telling her that she was being an idiot. She had no idea who was there, but it was a very small part, being outshouted by the other part that wanted to know what was going on.

The flickering light came from an opening in the mountain wall. Amy was absolutely sure that there hadn’t been an opening there only hours ago. Stunned she watched as a shrouded figure carried a box out of the opening and to a waiting truck. The vehicle looked like it had seen better days, on the other hand it wouldn’t draw any attention in this country.

The figure put the box in the back of the truck and turned around, facing her even when Amy was certain that hadn’t made any sound. “They run out of cake already?” The figure asked in a familiar voice and stepped in the light of the lantern hanging just inside the opening.

“You son of a…” Amy started. Of all the places he could have shown up, she never expected to see him here.

“Now, now, there is absolutely no need to insult my mother, I’m sure she was a wonderful woman, Dr. Zoll.” Methos interrupted her and went back into the opening again, only to come out seconds later carrying another of those boxes.

“What are you doing here?” she asked angrily. “And what’s with the beard?” Amy had never seen him bearded before. It looked…different, and added good ten years to his age, which was probably the point. They were searching for him under the assumption that he would try to look as young as possible.

“I was in no mood to shave,” Methos casually replied and put the box in the back of the trunk next to the other one. There were three others inside she could see.

“What are you doing here?” She asked again, trying to sound calm and patient. The old Immortal did nothing without a reason, and she’d be damned if she let him get away without at least an explanation. And she would so report him to headquarters.

“Just collecting what’s mine,” he told her and continued with his work.

“What’s in these boxes?” Amy wanted to know. Her curiosity getting the better of her. They were simple stone boxes, maybe half a meter long and half that wide. They looked heavy but Methos was not even breathing faster when he put the last one in the truck and took the lantern out of the opening. He then did something next to the opening, and a second later there was again a solid rock wall.

“Methos, what the hell are you doing? Would you please not ignore me?” She nearly shouted this time. “What’s in the boxes?” she grabbed his arm to stop him from simply leaving her standing in the dark.

The Immortal spun around and caught her with an intense stare. “Fine,” he spat. “That is my wife, our children and our grandchildren. I will not let you grave-robbers dig them up and display them in some museum. Satisfied?” he asked.

“We are not grave-robbers.” Amy protested weakly.

“Whatever makes you sleep at night,” Methos muttered and freed his arm from her grip.

“Where are you taking them?” Amy hurried to ask before Methos could drive away.

“Somewhere you will not be able to find them.” He said and drove off. Amy watched him disappear around a bend in the rocky landscape and he was gone.

 

Sunrise found Amy up and about. The first thing she had done was to send an e-mail to the Watchers back in Paris, reporting Methos’ appearance and disappearance, and adding a description of his looks. She should have taken a picture with her new smart-phone, but she completely forgotten about the device in her surprise as seeing him in the middle of the desert.

Next she went to the spot where she had run into him. There had to be a way to open that door, or whatever it was again. Even empty, the graves were a huge find, Amy would be damned if she let something like that slip through her fingers. _And we are not grave-robbers!_ She thought defiantly, _no matter what Methos says_.

But try as she might, she couldn’t find anything that indicated how it was opened. Did Methos have some kind of key? Amy hadn’t seen any on Methos, but that didn’t mean a thing with him and it had been dark.

“You’re up early,” Jed said smiling when he came to her. He still looked a bit crumpled, but eager to get started again.

Amy smiled back. “Couldn’t sleep, so I thought I get an early start.” She replied, and it was even the truth, most of it anyway. “Jed, have you ever thought about digging into the rock here?” she asked. If you didn’t know it, you couldn’t see the opening, so why was Methos worried about his family?

“Oh, yes,” Jed said excitedly. “Newly discovered inscriptions indicate that burial chambers were driven into the bare rock and then hidden, and considering the history of this place, I expect to find at least a dozen of them. Most should contain several generations of a family.”

Amy could see how happy Jed was about that prospect. Maybe there were grave-robbers after all. It explained why the Old Man had come here, but not how he knew about what Jed had planned. Unless he had simple hacked into her friend’s computer. Methos was known to do that with the Watcher database, which was heavily encrypted, how easy would it be for him to crack a computer with only minimal protection?

“Did you read my article about it last year?” Jed question startled May from her musings. Or the Old Man simply had read the article and added two plus two.

“Yeah, I went through it quickly,” she hastily replied. “How about some breakfast?” she asked and took his arm to lead him back to the common tent where the others were gathering for their morning dose of caffeine.

 

Putting on sunglasses Methos stepped out of the Pantheon. It was the height of summer in Rome and the city was nearly drowning in tourists. Methos had chosen the city to get rid of Adam Pierson, a tragic accident, of course, but with the way the people were driving in this country it was not a surprise that such a thing would happen to some hapless tourist. But before that he had decided to play tourist himself and see the sights of the _Eternal City._ He had never liked the ancient Romans all that much, arrogant snots as far as he was concerned, but they knew how to build an aqueduct, he had to give them that. He had already visited the Forum and now had finished the Pantheon. A nice enough church, but, ah, back in the day, when the old Roman gods had been worshipped here. What a sight.

He stroked his beard thoughtfully. It was not a look he used often. Keeping a beard lice-free had been a challenged for most of human history, but it was a good tool to make him appear older. He had trimmed it since he had returned from Jordan. It covered his upper lip and chin, his cheeks clean-shaven again. He smiled at the memory of Amy Zoll’s startled face when she had seen him. As if he was supposed to run around unchanged for the rest of eternity.

Suddenly there was a commotion up the street, some argument or fistfight. Methos changed the street side like most of the other pedestrians to avoid the press of curious onlookers. Through the crowd of people a dark-haired woman struggled outside, looking haggard and frightened and clutching something in her fist. It took Methos a moment to recognize Amy Zoll, she looked around frantically, as if searching for someone, police probably, he thought. In all the years he had known Amy she had never been frightened, angry, yes, but not frightened. Something was wrong, especially since she was supposed to be in Jordan for the next three months.

Quickly he crossed the street and before she even saw him, he took her arm and led her away. She struggled against him but when she recognized who he was, she sagged against his shoulder in relief and hanged on his arm as if her life depended on it.

“They still have Jed,” she whispered hoarsely, trying to look back.

“Don’t!” Methos hissed. “Act normal, Amy. We are tourists.” He led her to his car and once they were inside, Amy collapsed against the passenger seat and started crying. Methos let her, he was busy navigating the car through the narrow streets of Rome. They were near the city limits when Amy’s cell rang.

Taking a few steadying breaths she hit the connect button. “Dr. Zoll,” A male voice with an eastern accent said. “How rude of you to just leave us. Dear Jed is heartbroken. Aren’t you, Jed?” the voice asked and they culd hear heavy breathing in the background. “Well, he is a bit tied up at the moment, so let’s get down to business, shall we? You have something that’s mine, and I want it back. If I don’t get it back, your friend Jed is going to suffer for it. You have till midnight to return it to me. We meet at the Colosseum, north entrance. Don’t be late.” With that he hung up.

Amy stared at the phone like it would bite her any moment. “We have to go back.” She whispered. “Methos, you heard him, he’ll kill Jed if we don’t.”

“What makes you thing he won’t do it anyway?” Methos asked. The caller didn’t seem like the Boy Scout type to him. “What is this all about anyway? What is it he wants?”

Amy unclenched her fist and showed him a crumpled old parchment. “He stole this letter here in Rome, right after he kidnapped me and Jed in Jordan. He want’s Jed to translate it for him. Just let’s go back and give it to him, maybe he lets Jed go if we give it to him. I mean, you should be able to translate it, right?” Amy rambled.

“I don’t know. What language is it in?” Methos wanted to know. He was navigating the streets as fast as he dared.

“I think it’s some form of Greek, but I’m not cerain…God, what a mess.” Amy buried her head in her hands, clearly distraught about her friend’s fate.

Methos wind down the window on the passenger side. “Throw your cell out, Amy. I don’t want to risk this guy tracking us.”

“But what if he calls again?” Amy asked. “What if he has further instructions?”

“Well, then he is out of luck,” Methos replied. “Throw. It. Out!” he repeated slowly. Reluctantly Amy complied and the cell went out the window.

They drove for another half an hour and then came to a high fence. Methos hit the button on the remote and the gate in the fence opened, they went through and the gate closed again. At the end of the drive way was a well-kept villa within a plush garden.

“Whose place is this?” Amy wanted to know curiously when she got out of the car.

“Mine,” Methos replied. “What? Did you really believe I’m the half-starved graduate student I pretened to be?” Methos had to smile at that. Amy had been in research too long. “Come on in, you look like you could use a drink.”

 

“So, spill it. What happened? How did you end up in Rome? With more detail then _I’ve got kidnapped_.” Methos asked after he got Amy in a comfortable chair and a strong shot of vodka in her hand.

Amy scoffed. “I don’t think they wanted to kidnap me. Wrong place, wrong time. They were after Jed. Showed up at the dig a few days ago and made off with us. The head honcho barely said two words to me, unless to threaten a painful death.” Amy explained, downing her drink.

“And why would an Iranian be interested in a professor whose main field of study is early Christianity and how other religions influenced it?” Methos asked and refiled Amy’s glass.

“How do you know he is Iranian?” Amy wanted to know surprised.

Methos gave her a pitying look, which she totally hated. “That accent is pretty obvious. So, he took you two to Rome without anyone noticing and that only for Jed to translate some old letter?” Methos asked. “Sounds a bit extensive.”

Amy chuckled hysterically and then drank the vodka to calm herself. “I know, but he had to steal the thing first. That was when I ran into you. He needed to distract a few cps, Jed used that to allow me to get away with the letter.”

“People have weird priorities, sometimes.” Methos commented.

“What if it were one of your Chronicles? Wouldn’t you want it back?” Amy pointed out.

“That’s what the letter is about?” Methos sounded skeptical.

“I don’t know!” Amy almost shouted. “Can’t you just translate it?” She held out the parchment to him.

“Why don’t you go to your Watcher buddies? I call them for you. I’m sure they can make something out of it.” Methos replied. He didn’t want to be dragged into this. He had his own business to attend to. He had only grabbed Amy out of a reflex. He had to work on that.

“No Immortal involved, so it doesn’t concern them.” Amy said angrily. “Which you very well know, Methos. They would order me back and Jed would die. He is not one of us.”

Methos sighed. He didn’t know the guy but he was probably a nice fellow and didn’t deserve to die a horrible death. “Fine, I’ll take a look at the bloody thing.” He extended his hand and after a moment of hesitation Amy gave it to him.

“Thank you,” she whispered.

“Whatever,” Methos replied. “There’s a bathroom upstairs. First door on the left, you might want to freshen up.” He didn’t look at her when he said that, already scanning the letter, but Amy became very conscious of the fact that she hadn’t had been able to wash properly in three days, nor changed her clothes.

“Thanks, but I don’t have any fresh…” she started to say.

“Second door on the left, top drawer, should be your size.” Methos interrupted her in that infuriatingly calm voice of his.

“Right, I’ll be right back,” Amy replied and hurried upstairs.

 

The hot water was wonderful. Amy started to feel like a human being again. Which made her think of Jed. Who was probably not having such a good of time of it. She hoped this Iranian guy didn’t kill him outright. That thought led her to another one. Why was Methos helping her? Amy found it difficult to believe that he did it out of the goodness of his heart. Or that he did it for her. There had to be something in it for him. Or maybe he was simply bored and she and her _problem_ were of some entertaining value to him.

Amy turned the water off and wrapped herself in one of the fluffy towels. It was of no use to speculate over the Old Man’s motivations and reasons behind doing anything. She went into the next room, the one Methos had said contained clothes for her. And indeed, in the top drawers there were underwear, socks, jeans and shirts in her size. She preferred not to think why Methos had woman’s clothing in one of his uninhabited houses. Villa, she corrected herself, it was a villa. Alone in the bedroom she was in was nearly as big as he entire apartment in Paris. The furniture seemed to be directly from a five-star hotel. Considering how Methos had lived as Adam Pierson it was quite a changed. Just like the beard. It looked good on him, she had to admit, it made him look older, more mature, just as you expected the oldest man alive to look.

Once Amy was dressed she went down again. Methos was not in the room where she had left him. “Methos! Where are you?” she called. If that man thought it was funny he had something else coming his way.

“In the kitchen, Dr. Zoll,” Came the replied from down the corridor.

“Why are you in the kitchen?” Amy asked when she found the right room.

“Because I’m hungry,” Methos replied and pushed a plate in her directiong. It was piled high with sandwiches and Amy’s stomach growled at the sight of the food. She hadn’t really eaten in over a day either.

“Thank you,” she said and started to dug in. It was not dignified, but her captures hadn’t seen it fit to feed her and Jed on a regular basis. She was half-starved.

“You mad any progress on the letter?” she wanted to know between bites. They were on the clock here.

Methos nodded and handed her a handwritten page. “It’s from a bishop, written in 325 AD, about the Council of Nicaea.”

“You translated everything already?” Amy asked surprised.

“Wasn’t that hard, really,” Methos stated.

“Please, tell me you weren’t there.” Amy groaned, that would be just her luck.

“Now, Dr. Zoll, that would be lying,” Methos smiled mischievously. God, how she hated that smug face, sometimes.

“Okay, what it this letter all about and what happened really at the council?” Amy asked resigned.

“It’s rather simple. The good bishop, Alexander, by the way, writes to his confessor that the emperor, Constantin I, had ordered him to collect and destroy all the various gospels that weren’t included into the bible. And if he should really destroy all that knowledge.” Methos explained.

“Why would he do that?” Amy wanted to know shocked. She had never been very religious, and had never really thought about how today’s bible came to be.

“Unity,” Methos replied. “Up until that point there were many groups and currents of Christianity. To be of any use to Constantine it needed to be streamlined and structured. Pragmatic man, that.”

“I bet,” she could just imagine Methos moving through the courts of that time. “Friend of yours, was he?”

“For a while, but I was never big on religion, guess I saw too many rise and fall.” The old Immortal shrugged his shoulders, as if it was no big deal to have known a historic figure like Constantine I. Then again, if you lived over five thousand years, it probably was really no big deal.

“Okay, what now?” she asked with a sigh.

“Hand the thing over to your kidnapper and hope he doesn’t kill your friend just for the fun of it.” Methos told her.

“You really have to work on your pep-talks, you know.” Amy took the original letter back and looked at it earnestly. “What does he want with it?” she asked, none of this made any sense to her. It was just an old letter, an antique, sure, but just a letter.

“I guess it depends whether our good bishop destroyed the discarded gospels or not.” Methos said. For him this was only an intellectual exercise. He had no real stake in it.

“Did he destroy it?” Amy asked. Best get to the bottom of this with someone who was actually there.

“Not to my knowledge, but of course I could be mistaken. Come on, let’s get back to town and get this over with.” Methos handed her a jacket she couldn’t normally have afforded if she saved all of her money for a year.

“Where do you get all this stuff?” she just had to ask him.

“A friend left it here when she moved on.” Methos replied shortly.

 

“You don’t think Jed’s still alive, do you?” Amy wanted to know when they were in the car and on their way back to Rome and the Colosseum.

“I wouldn’t count on it, no,” Methos replied. “Nor would I count on the honor of the guy. He is going to screw us over one way or other. But maybe he keeps Jed alive until he can kill him in front of us.”

Amy looked at him for a long moment. “You really are a cynic.”

Methos shrugged. “Don’t tell me you’re surprised by that.”

But she was. Despite knowing the truth about him, in her mind he was still Adam Pierson, eternal grad-student, bookworm and shy Watcher. She had never really seen Methos until now. The stories she had heard from Dawson and by extension MacLeod didn’t do him justice.

“So, what’s the plan exactly? Just give him the letter and hope for the best?” Amy finally asked.

“That would be nice, yes, but I doubt it will be that easy,” Methos replied. “I mean, the letter alone is worthless. He’s probably after the gospels.”

“To what end?” Amy wanted to know. “I mean, even if the say something different from the bible, it’s not going to change anything.”

Methos gave her a smile. “I know that, you know that, but I doubt our Iranian sees it quite that rationally. He probably thinks he can blackmail someone with it or destabilize Christianity, or the entire Western World.” At Amy’s incredulous look he shrugged. “What? Fanatics aren’t exactly known for being reasonable. We’re here, by the way.”

Methos parked as close to the Colosseum as he could, which wasn’t all that close, considering that they were in Rome.

When they came close to the ancient building, there were still plenty of tourists around taking in the scenery. Despite being nearly midnight the weather was still warm.

“Dr. Zoll, so glad you could make it.” The Iranian said when they drew closer to him and his henchmen. Jed stood next to him, clearly nervous, but not cuffed or bound. That would have been rather conspicuous. Besides, there was a gun trained at Jed, Methos saw. But the Iranian was at least discreet enough to keep it mostly out of sight.

“And I see you brought a friend. Now who are you?” he wanted to know in a friendly if cold tone.

“I’m the guy who translated your precious letter. You want it?” Methos asked and held up both the original letter and his translation.

“Very good, Dr. Zoll, I applaud your ingenuity.” The man told Amy. “Now, give them to me and we can all leave here alive.” He ordered.

“First led Jed go, then you get the letter.” Methos said. “After all, you have the guns.”

“Indeed I do.” The Iranian agreed. “Fine, I will miss his pleasant company but I think I can do without him, or you.” He pointed his weapon directly at Methos.

It was supposed to be threatening, but of course it didn’t work on Methos. Not that he had any intention of giving the man an opportunity to find out. Carefully Methos extended his hand with the letter and translation.

“No need to get testy,” Methos said.

The moment the Iranian reached of the papers Methos let them drop. Jed got the hint, thankfully and sprinted at Methos and Amy. The Watcher grabbed her friend and ran, Methos closed behind, covering them.

They were out of sight of the Iranians before he could either pick up the papers or shoot them. His men were too surprised to react at all. Qualified help was hard to come by nowadays. They did not stop until they reached Methos’ car and were inside. Methos didn’t even wait for the doors to fully close and they were off towards the villa.

 

“Thanks,” Simmons said while fidgeting in the back seat. On closer inspection he did not look all that good, Amy noted.

“Did they hurt you?” she asked.

Jed shrugged and then winced. “They beat me up a bit after you got away. I had worse in high-school.”

Amy looked at Methos concerned.

“I check him out once we’re home.” Methos promised.

Jed sighed. “I’m sorry, I didn’t catch your name earlier.”

“No, you didn’t.” Methos agreed. “I’m Adam, a former colleague of Amy.”

“A doctor?” Jed wanted to know.

“Among other things.” Methos hedged. He didn’t want to tell the mortal any more than he absolutely had to. He was not a Watcher and did not know about Immortals, and he liked to keep it that way.

“Did that guy tell you what he wanted the letter for?” Amy asked to change the subject.

“Yeah, he couldn’t stop bragging about how he would use it to destroy the Western civilization and Christianity. How it would lead him to his goal.” Jed told them.

“It will lead him nowhere.” Methos said with a little smile. Amy was getting to know and fear that smile. It meant that he was up to something.

“What did you do?” Amy asked suspiciously.

Methos gave her the original letter and the translation. “I gave him a fake. Letter and translation. He figures out the clues I put in, he will end up in Portugal.”

“And what does the real letter lead us?” Jed asked curiously. He nearly had died for that thing. Amy could understand that he wanted to know.

“Not much, but if you really want to pursue this, I would suggest Istanbul as your next destination.” Methos shrugged, as if it was all the same to him.

“Why Istanbul?” Amy wanted to know.

“It’s where Alexander was from. He probably took the discarded gospels there with him before he decided what to do with them.” Methos explained.

“You don’t believe they are still there, do you?” Jed asked with renewed excitement.

“I don’t know, but it’s a place to start for you. Besides the old imperial library is full of documents that haven’t been registered yet.” Methos replied.

“It was the capital of the Roman Empire, before it was taken over by the Ottoman Empire.” Jed mused. “But how do we go there? My passport is back in Jordan.”

“Then I suggest to get in contact with the US embassy and get a new one.” Methos told him and turned into the driveway to his villa.

 

“Well, you have a couple of broken ribs and some internal bleeding,” Methos stated once he had looked Jed over. “I would suggest a little downtime in a proper hospital.”

“Do I have to?” Jed whined. He looked like a little kid being sent to his room without dessert.

“If you want to live.” Methos replied. “Come on, I’ll take you.”

They all piled back into the car and drove to private clinic not too far away from the villa. The doctors there confirmed Methos’ diagnosis. The bleeding was so bad that they had to do some surgery. Jed would have to stay for a least a week, maybe longer, in bed.

“Guess, you will have either to wait for Jed or go alone to Istanbul.” Methos commented on their way back to the villa. Jed would be fine in the hospital, Amy had called the US embassy and they had sent a guard to keep an eye on him.

“Or you could come along.” Amy suggested.

Methos laughed. “Why would I do that?”

“Because of the gospels. Because it would be the right thing to do. Because the Iranian guy will try to come after you once he realizes you screwed him over.” Amy listed.

“Yeah, because I’m afraid of that guy.” Methos contered.

Amy sighed. “Would you please think about it? This could be important. And Jed sure will not forget about it.”

Methos rolled his eyes. “Fine, I’ll think about it.”

 

The next morning Amy found Methos in the kitchen brewing a pot of tea. He seemed very relaxed, there was no way to for her to know what his decision was.

“Morning,” he greeted her without looking up.

“Morning,” Amy replied. “Made up your mind?” No reason to beat around the bush, was there?

“We are leaving this evening,” he replied. “Got us a flight directly to Istanbul.”

“Thank you,” Amy said.

“Don’t thank me yet. Who knows what we’ll find? Probably nothing.” Methos muttered just loud enough for her to hear.

“When why are you helping me?” Amy wanted to know.

Methos shrugged, still not looking at her. “Because I’m bored and have nothing better to do right now.”

 

He knew Zoll wouldn’t buy that pile of horseshit, but really, what did she care why he did it? Officially he was still Adam Pierson, his new identity not yet activated. It had occurred to him during his night’s musings that Istanbul just might be an even better place to get rid of Adam Pierson.

“You are bored, really?” Amy sounded amused and incredulous at the same time.

“Think whatever you want.” Methos replied. If she couldn’t figure it out for herself, he wouldn’t help her out.

Amy sighed. “I’m sorry, Methos. This is not my week. I’m grateful for your help, I really am.”

“It’s alright, but you might want to remember to call me Adam. I have no intention of being outed as the oldest Immortal to anyone, especially not the common Watcher population out there.” Methos said calmly.

“Right, sorry,” Amy blushed for some reason and grabbed a cup and poured herself a cup of tea.

 

They were flying business class. It appeared like Methos, Adam, was bent on living in style until he retired Adam Pierson. And Amy had to admit, traveling like that had its perk. The Watchers never were that generous. The two were alone in the front of the plane which allowed them to talk freely without anyone overhearing them. Aside from the noisy steward who seemed hell bent on annoy them to death with offering the plane had to offer.

“Let’s say for a moment the gospels still exists after all this time, how do we go about it?” she wanted to know while the steward brought the pilots their lunch.

Methos shrugged. “We have the credentials to get access to the library. Hopefully we will be able to find the trail of Alexander and then we’ll have to get lucky. The usually, you know.”

“Great,” Amy sighed. “I have to report to the Tribunal soon, and they’ll won’t be happy with any of this.2

 

Once in Istanbul they gathered their baggage and took a cab to their hotel. They had one of the better rooms, just under the penthouse suit, with single beds for each of them. They just freshened up a bit before heading out again.

At the entrance to the old Imperial Library they showed their credentials, in Amy’s case fake ones, her own were still in Jordan. They were allowed entrance and made their way into the archives. What they were looking for would not be anywhere in the parts where the cataloged documents were being stored. Which meant heading down into the cellars. Tons of books and scrolls were being stored down there. Finding what they hoped was there would demand a lot of luck.

A young woman was sitting behind a desk at the bottom of the stairs reading a fashion magazine. She looked up as they approached and Amy had to say that she had overdone it with the make-up. Her eyes looked like stolen from an ancient Egypt movie.

“Can I help you?” she asked in Turkish. Her face said that she did not expect them to understand her and that that was only payback for disturbing her important pursue of literature.

“Yes, we would like to see any documents you have about the Council of Nicaea.” Methos replied in perfect Turkish. The woman looked shocked for about a minute, then she blinked and reached for the keyboard.

After some typing she looked up at Methos again. “The documents are in Ilse D and E. Do you want me to lead you there?”

“No, thank you, I know the way.” Methos replied and with a smile led Amy off into the depths of the archives.

“Why am I not surprised that you know the way?” Amy asked.

Methos shrugged. “I may have been here before a couple of times.”

“A couple of times, right.” Amy scoffed. “Steal any books?”

“It’s not stealing when you wrote them.” Methos pointed out.

Amy blinked. “Right,” she muttered. Of course he had written books, many books, his journals were proof of that. It stood to reason that he had written other too.

They reached the Iles in question and started to take out books and leaf through them. Four hours later they had found nothing. Aside from a lot of interesting things, but nothing about Bishop Alexander.

Closing the book he had been looking through and putting it back in the shelf Methos sighed. “I’m hungry. Let’s go eat something.”

Amy nodded relieved. She had been starving for the last hour but hadn’t wanted to say something. It was stupid but she didn’t want to appear weak in front of him. Ha, what a joke. She would never be as physically strong as a man, let alone an immortal one.

“Good, I just know the place.” Methos grabbed his jacket and headed for the exit.

 

“I think I found something,” Amy said a couple of hours after returning from a surprisingly good lunch. She had been working through box of lose papers of various languages.

Methos looked up from his own pile and Amy handed him the sheet of vellum. He read over it and whistled appreciatively. “That would explain a lot.” He said.

“Let me guess, you were a Templar Knight too.” Amy stated.

“I was, as a matter of fact, but before the 12th century. At that time I was in China somewhere, or was it China?” Methos replied as if it was par for course.

Amy sighed. Of course he had been a Templar. If she weren’t getting so much information out of the Old Man’s life she would have given in to her urge to hit him over the head, hard. She would take nothing he said with without a grain of salt and double-check everything later, but she could fill out at least some of the gaps in his Chronicles.

“Okay, here it says to gather all these gospels and hand them over to the Templar Knights. That they would take them to safety. Why? They have been here for centuries.” Amy asked confused.

“Crusaders,” Methos stated-matter-of-fact.

“I know the Templar Knights were crusaders.” Amy replied testily. She was a historian after all.

“No, I mean there was an army of crusaders laying siege to the city trying to force the Orthodox Church back in the fold of the Roman Catholic one. They did sack the city rather thoroughly in the end. A historian should know that.” Methos pointed out as if he had just read her mind.

“My specialty  are ancient cultures.” Amy defended herself embarrassed. She should have known that.

“Whatever,” Methos muttered and continued to go through the documents before him. But they didn’t find anything else pertaining to the gospels. Amy whished Jed was here to help, this was more his area of expertise than hers.

“Okay, the good Bishop Alexander hid the gospels here originally and a few centuries later the Templar Knights take them somewhere else.” Amy summarized. “That leads to two questions. First, where did they take them and second, how did they know about them in the first place?”

Methos put his documents away and pocketed the vellum. “Good questions. Let me make some calls to some old friends of mine. Should be one among them who had been here around the time.”

They left the room and ascended the stair again with a quick wave at the woman who was now reading another fashion magazine. She pointedly ignored them.

 

Methos made his calls and then they retired to their beds. It had been a long day and they needed their rest. Besides, it would take some time for this friends to call back, if they did at all. Some of them were not exactly people persons. And they might not have any useful information. They had been Templars in the past, or at least affiliated with them.

The call came around noon the next day, from someone he had not really expected. Yun Xi Lang, an Immortal from Mongolia, around fourteen hundred years old, told him that he may be able to help them.

“I can’t remember you being a Templar, Yun.” Methos said over the phone. He knew the other Immortal was virtually unknown to the Watchers and he didn’t want to give them too much information about him.

“I wasn’t, but I kept good ties with them,” Yun replied. “I know that the Knights Templar got the gospels you are looking for out of the city safely.”

“How?” Methos wanted to know.

Yun sighed over the phone. “Because they handed them over to me in Acre.”

“You have them? Where?” Methos asked. Now they were getting somewhere. Amy looked impatient at him, wanting to be part of the conversation.

“Well, I took them back home, where they still are.” Yun replied.

“Guess then we are off to Mongolia.” Methos sighed, ignoring Amy’s surprised look. “Can you meet us in Ulam Bator or at least send us a map?”

Yun chuckled. “Map won’t do you much good. I haven’t been there in nearly five hundred years myself, but I think I’m still able to find it if I have to. I can be in Ulam Bator by the end of the week. And I want to stay out of the Chronicles.”

“I’m sure that can be arranged, afterwards if I have to.” Methos promised. Again Amy looked at him surprised and not entirely happy. “We will be waiting for you there and get everything arranged.”

“Alright, see you in by the end of the week.” Yun said and hung up.

“Mongolia? Are you serious?” Amy couldn’t keep the question in. That country had the lowest Immortal count of all the countries in the world. It was no wonder that this Yun guy had slipped through the cracks. There was only one other Immortal from there that she knew of.

“Do you want to find those gospels or not?” Methos wanted to know.

Amy took a deep breath. “Of course I do, I’m just surprised, that’s all. And what did you mean about afterwards?”

“He doesn’t want an entry in the Chronicles.” Methos told her.

“You can’t promise that.” Amy protested.

Methos grinned at her. “Watch me.”

 

It was kind of creepy how fast and well Methos could get things done when he put his mind to it. It seemed that he had connections everywhere. Early the next morning Amy and Methos checked out of their hotel and took a cab to the airport.

This time they had to make do with seats far in the back of the plane, but only for the first part of their journey. In Singapore they had wait for a couple of hour before changing planes for the flight to Mongolia. Methos was sleeping though most of that. Amy was awake for every minute of it. She had often wondered how some people could do that, because she never could. But that was what cheap paperbacks were for.

 

“We are on approach to Ulam Bator, please bring your seat in an upright position and close all electronic devices, thank you.” The flight attendance informed the passengers and just like that Methos was awake again. Like a light switch, Amy thought. It had been the same in Singapore.

They still had a few days before Yun would arrive and Amy had decided to see if she could find anything in the Chronicles about him. They did have Wi-Fi in Mongolia, right? She had tried to remember if she had ever heard about someone by that name, but she had come up empty. That alone was worth the trouble she would be going to be in with the Tribunal.

After leaving the airport Methos led her down a street and then another. They ended up in another hotel, not nearly as luxurious as the one in Istanbul, but it would do for a few days.

“Okay, what are we going to do until your friend shows up?” Amy asked. Mongolia wasn’t exactly a hot-spot.

“I’m sure you will think of something. I will make sure we have what we need to get going once Yun is here.” Methos replied. “How good of a horsewoman are you?”

“We are not going wherever we are going by horse!” Amy exclaimed shocked. “Why don’t we take a car?”

Methos shrugged. “Horses are more reliable. It’s not like you have a garage at hand when the car breaks down. Horses on the other hand you can buy and sell at every tribe.” He smiled at her. “Relax, it will be fun.”

“You are crazy.” Amy muttered. “If it weren’t for one of the greatest historical finds of all time I would be out of here.”

“Yes, but it is one of the greatest historical find of all time. And we can’t disappoint poor Jed, can we?” Methos grinned.

“What are you talking about?” Amy wanted to know confused. Of course she also did this for Jed, he was her friend after all.

“Oh, come on, I saw the puppy-eyed-looks you two kept throwing at each other. You two are like star-struck teenagers.” Methos said and grabbed his jacked and backpack.

“We are not, we are friends and colleagues, that’s all.” Amy protested. Sure there had been a time, years ago, when she had thought there might have been more between them, but both of them had been too busy, first with their studies and then with their work.

“Whatever,” Methos shrugged. “I’ll get us some food. I’ll be back in about an hour.”

“And I’m supposed to just sit here like a damsel in distress?” Amy crossed her arms across her chest. She was starting to get fed up with the way Methos made all the decisions for her since she had run into him in Rome. She was grateful for his help, but that didn’t give him the right to run her life. She was a grown woman, and she could pull her own weight.

Methos sighed and gave her a look that reminded her of her father when she had been stubborn and unreasonable as a child.

“Then get your jacket, I’m starving.” The old man said and opened the door.

Hurriedly, Amy grabbed her jacket and went out of the room before him. Really like her father. She decided not to think too much about that. It was just creepy.

 

On Friday morning Methos and Amy returned to the airport to meet the Immortal’s friend. Yun turned out to be a tall man with what Amy thought were Native American features, not Mongolian, but who was she to judge? No one knew where Immortals came from, so why should they fit the ethnicity of the area they were found?

After introducing her the men exchanged a few sentences in a language Amy had never heard before, and she knew a lot of languages, old and current one.

“Care to clue me in?” she asked a little miffed and crossed her arms in front of her. She was not going to be excluded from anything here.

“Just catching up,” Methos said dismissively. “Haven’t seen each other in a few decades.”

“We should get going, we have quite a way ahead of us,” Yun cut in.

“Right, I have the horses at the edge of town.” Methos said and the three of them left the airport building. Yun traveled light, Amy noticed. He only carried a small bag on his shoulder. She assumed that he had his sword somewhere in his jacked, just like Methos, but she couldn’t be sure and she was also certain that he would not tell her if she asked.

 

Seven days, that was how long they had been on the road so far. And road was a generous word, because most of the time there wasn’t even a path to follow. On horses! How the two Immortals found their way was beyond Amy, but at least Yun seemed to know where he was going, or at least he pretended to be.

The first couple of days had been the hardest, at least for her. Amy wasn’t used to ride on horseback for ten to twelve hours a day. The first night she hadn’t even been able to walk unaided. It had been so embarrassing, especially because neither Methos nor Yun looked like they had ridden all day, and that was more than just being immortal healing. They didn’t even looked tired, quite on the contrary, both men looked invigorated by their journey.

She hated them for that, no one should look so fresh and happy when they were riding all day and sleeping in tiny uncomfortable tents during the night.

At last they didn’t rub it in her face, that she wasn’t really up to an expedition like this. Amy had been something of a couch-potato in the last years, she had to admit, but being in research did that to you. She had never been one for the field.

They were now at the northern Mountains. So far the land had been rolling hills and wide steppes, with roaming nomad families in the distance, now there were trees and Yun led them steadily upwards.

“God, does this wind never stop?” Amy asked. She felt like she was going to freeze into a solid block of ice. The wind found its way under jacket and several layers of sweaters.

“Not really, no.” Yun replied. “But you can count yourself lucky, it would be worse in winter.”

“Hard to imagine.” She muttered. Yun cast her a smile over his shoulder but didn’t say anything. The Immortal wasn’t one for many words, Amy had noticed that early on. Maybe he talked more with Methos when she wasn’t there to listen. With her he never said more than a sentence or two at a time.

“Are you sure you know where we are going?” she wanted to know, just to spite him. “I have the feeling we’re going in circles.”

“We’re close, don’t worry, Dr. Zoll.” Yun assured her. Methos pretended he didn’t hear either of them.

Amy buried deeper into her layers of fabric. “I sure hope you’re right.”

 

And he was. Around midday the next day they crossed a little stream and came to a nearly completely hidden cave. A hidden cave in the middle of nowhere. If she weren’t so cold, she would have laughed at the cliché.

“This is it?” Amy asked.

“A bit anticlimactic.” Methos commented and dismounted. “But I would have picked a place like this too.

“Glad to meet your approval, Old Man.” Yun replied and secured the horses at the mouth of the cave. They could get some grass but not run away. “Be careful now, there’s a chance that some wild animals have taken shelter here.” He warned them and took out a flashlight and a gun. Methos did the same. Amy only had a flashlight, she hated guns.

On their way into the depths of the cave they encountered several small animals, like rats and rabbits, but nothing bigger or more dangerous.

The cave led far into the mountainside and it twisted and turned but led steadily upward. In the light of the flashlight Amy could see that parts of the walls and roof had been worked on.

“Did you do that?” she whispered. For some reason it seemed appropriate to whisper. She indicated the walls.

“Yes, I did.” Was all Yun replied and Amy could see Methos smile at the short answer.

Amy sighed. She hated it when she had to draw out every little piece of information bit by bit. “Why?”

“It seemed to be a good idea at the time.” Was the reply.

Before Amy could demand more information, Methos cut in. “It’s not important why he did it, Dr. Zoll. We are here for the gospels, remember?”

“Yeah, whatever.” Amy muttered and they continued on their way silently. Very silently, Methos and Yun didn’t make a sound, while Amy could hear her own footsteps all the louder. After what seemed a very long time, but was in truth only half an hour, they stopped in front of a part of the cave wall. Yun holstered his weapon and moved a lever near the roof. With a grounding that sounded unnaturally loud in the cave, a part of wall swung open, revealing a room made by small bricks. Most of the walls were hidden by stone shelves containing chests of wood or stone. There was a table, also made of stone, in the middle of the room. That table was empty, only covered in a layer of dust.

“Your gospels, Dr. Zoll,” Yun said and opened one of the chests.

Amy could see that it was full to the brim with scrolls and books. This was it, this was what Jed had nearly died for. The discarded gospels.

Not daring to breath, Amy stepped closer and carefully took the topmost scroll out of the chest. She unrolled it and in the light of the three flashlights she could see that it was written in a very old form of Latin. She could only understand a few words, but with more time she would be able to translate the rest.

“Satisfied?” Methos asked, startling hr. She had completely forgotten that the two men where there with her.

“Oh, yes,” she breathed.

 

Amy spent the rest of the day in that dark room at the back of the cave. She emptied the box of everything in it. Most of the documents she couldn’t read, but that was to be expected. The fact alone that they existed was more than she could have hoped for.

She considered looking into the other chests, but that would be an insult to Yun, a betrayal of his trust, little that he had in her, this was his safe place after all. And despite her curiosity she was not willing to do that.

Methos and Yun had left a while before, to set up camp for the night. They would start their return journey tomorrow, with the gospels.

Yun had told her he only had kept them as a favor to an old friend among the Knights Templar, and had quite forgotten about them until Methos had called. He had no qualms about Amy taking possession of them. He knew enough about the Watchers to know that they would take good care of them and introduce them to the public knowledge when the time was right, when people weren’t hell-bent on killing each other over religion anymore, so not anytime soon. They would study them in the meantime, and a lot of joy to them, as far as Yun was concerned.

That Methos had no interest in the, surprised Amy but then he had been there, he had said so himself, so he probably knew what all these documents contained.

Speaking or thinking of the devil Methos chose that moment to come back in. “Time for a break, Dr. Zoll, dinner is ready.” He told her.

“Five minutes,” Amy replied and picked up another scroll, but Methos stopped her and put the scroll back down.

“No, now,” he insisted. “They won’t run away. Children those days.”

With an annoyed sigh Amy followed him out. He really reminded her of her father. And just in this moment her stomach grumbled. She ignored his look and headed towards the fire where Yun was cooking their food.

 

The way back seemed shorter to Amy, though they needed a day longer in fact. Back at the city Methos helped her arrange the transport of the gospels to Paris. She hated letting go of them, but the sooner they got to the Headquarters and a team started working on them the better.

She would follow soon enough with only a stop in Rome to pick up Jed. She hadn’t been able to talk to him since they had left Italy. It simply had been too dangerous, even with the Iranian on a false trail. Jed would be well enough by now to join the team. It would all have to run through the university, of course, but there were more than enough Watchers working there to keep it in the family.

She still didn’t plan on telling him about Immortals and Watchers. The gospels would be good enough for him to forget everything else that might struck him as strange.

Yun had said his goodbyes and returned to the US the day after they had returned to Ulam Bator. He obviously had a job and live to get back to and Amy fully intended to look his Chronicle up and update it, as soon as she was back in Paris and got a free minute. And Methos would not get to delete it.

There was no way she was going to go back to the dig in Jordan, not with the gospels to study. Besides, Methos had already come up with a cover story to explain her absence and that of Jed. The truth was a bit too far-fetched to be believable anyway.

The flight back to Europe was uneventful, but Amy was glad nonetheless when it was over. They took a cab straight to the hospital to talk to Jed and tell him everything, the edited version, of course, she had a copy of one of the scrolls for him. To lift his spirits.

“I would appreciate it if you could keep Yun completely out of your story.” Methos said when they walked down the hospital corridor to Jed’s room.

“I have to tell him something, he’ll never believe we found our way on our own.” Amy pointed out.

“You don’t have to lie, just skip over some details.” Methos suggested. Well, he would now how to do that, wouldn’t he?

“Yeah, that’s called lying,” Amy shook her head. She understood his reluctance to draw his friend into this, but harm would it do to tell Jed.

“You should clear brining Jed on to this project with the Tribunal first. That’s procedure, after all.” Methos pointed out.

Amy stopped. “I know that, I’ll get it sorted.”

Methos shrugged. “It’s your head, not mine.”

“Right,” Amy muttered and pushed the door to Jed’s room open. Jed was packing a small bag when they came in, his guard standing at the ready keeping everything in sight. Methos stayed in the background while Amy gave Jed a hug.

And then she showed him the copy of the scroll. He took it with almost reverence and studied it. “Wonderful,” he breathed. “You have found more?”

Amy nodded. “I sent them to the university in Paris to get started on them. I was hoping you would come along.”

“Are you kidding?” Jed exclaimed. “Of course, I’ll come. Try stopping me.”

“Right, our flight leaves in an hour.” Methos spoke up. Jed hurriedly put the last piece of clothing into his bag and all of them filed out of the room.

 

Jed pestered them with question of how and where the found the gospels. Amy answered all of them as best she could, mindful to keep Yun’s name out of it. And to also not reference the Watchers or anything. Methos was right, the Tribunal would have her head if she spilled company secrets, no matter that she had just spent two weeks with the elusive oldest Immortal and leaned more about him in that time than in the last five years.

 

They arrived in Paris late at night, a car from the university was already waiting for them. The driver had orders to take them there directly, but Methos declined. He was not walking in there with who knew how many Watchers were hanging around there, even this time of the day. Zoll could explain everything, he still had an accident to arrange.

He watched the car with Amy and Jed leave and then made his own way to the taxi stand.

He got out of the car a block from his house. And, surprise, there were no Watchers around. Looked like they had gotten bored waiting for him to return. Ah, youth, so impatient. But that would soon change. Zoll would tell them and then they would be back.

He was about to open the front door of his home when he heard a noise behind him. Methos had been wondering when he would show up.

“Sending me on a wild-goose-chase, that wasn’t very nice.” The Iranian said and stepped forward, gun in hand.

“It’s not my fault that you fell for it.” Methos replied and unlocked and opened the door. “Do you want to do this here or inside?”

“Oh, by all means, let’s go inside.” The Iranian said, sure in his superior strength thanks to his guns. Of his goons there was no sign.

Methos led the way into the kitchen and took out a beer from the fridge. He took a deep swallow. His first one in over two weeks. Ah, but it tasted like heaven.

“You infidels and your alcohol,” the Iranian said disgusted. “It will be your undoing one day.”

“Yeah, yeah, cry me a river.” Methos rolled his eyes. That’s why he had only converted to Islam when he absolutely had no other choice, he hated it when someone tried to forbid him his booze, or music, or pets, or pork. “I’m sure you aren’t here to lecture me on my drinking habits. So say what you have to say.”

The Iranian clearly didn’t like being talked to like that and made his displeasure know by shooting right next to Methos’ head. But the old man didn’t even flinch.

“Where are the gospels?” the Iranian wanted to know. “You found them, didn’t you?”

“Yes, I did, too bad you won’t ever see them.” Methos said with a shrug. It was fun riling the guy up, fanatics really were such easy marks.

“I want them and you will take me to them.” The Iranian hissed.

“Let me think about that…Hmm, no.” Methos finished his beer and played with the empty bottle.

“You’ll take me to them now or…” the Iranian started.

“Or what?” Methos interrupted. “You’ll shoot me? Do I look scared to you? You will have to come up with something better than that.”

“Have you ever been shot, Mr. Pierson?” the mortal fool asked, keeping his anger barely in check.

“Many times,” Methos smirked at him and threw the empty beer bottle at him. The other man caught it easily with a smile that said he had been expecting something like that. But that smile faded when he realized that Methos had thrown something else too. He looked down his chest and saw a dagger sticking out of it, right above the heart.

With a last, unbelieving glance at Methos he collapsed to the floor. He gave a final shudder and died.

Methos observed his dispassionately. “Well, it was time for a good spring cleaning anyway.” He said.

 

It was late in the afternoon the next day when the door to the Blues Bar opened and MacLeod stepped in.

“You wanted me to come over Joe? What’s up?” he asked his Watcher. And in the next second he felt the Buzz crawl up his spine. He turned around to the door and a few seconds later Methos stepped in, looking as if he had never been away.

“Headquarters called and told me he was back in town. Was only a matter of time before he showed up here.” Joe explained with a big smile. He really had missed the Old Man.

“Where have you been?” MacLeod asked in lieu of a greeting, half angry, half glad.

“Here and there, MacLeod, there mostly.” Methos replied and sat down at the bar.

“Care to elaborate?” MacLeod asked. Methos’ non-answers were going on his nerves. He had thought the worst when he hadn’t heard from him in months. He had disappeared before, sure, but never like this.

Methos shook his head and took a sip from the beer Joe had put in front of him. “Not really.”

Suddenly the door opened again and Amy Zoll came in. “Thought I find you here,” she said to Methos. “What happened to the beard? It kind of grew on me.”

“It was time to lose it.” Methos replied with a shrug. “So, Jed come up for air yet?”

Amy smiled. “No, he is very happy in his paradise. Those gospels are a revelation.”

“Wow, there,” Joe spoke up. “What the hell are you two talking about? Spill it, kids.” He demanded.

“I’m sure Dr. Zoll has already submitted her report, where you can read everything.” Methos told him.

“Oh, no, no. You tow are going to tell me everything right now.” Joe insisted.

Methos shrugged and indicated for Zoll to start. Amy sat down next to Methos and Joe offered her a glass of wine, which she took gratefully.

“Well, it all started with him giving us the slip,” she motioned towards Methos. “And me joining a dig in Jordan…”

End

 


End file.
